


Sumotori Dreams

by SuperLeon



Category: Sumotori Dreams
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Fights, Het, Homophobia, Making Characters Out of Nondescript Blocks, Multi, Slash, Sumotori Dreams - Freeform, Tournaments, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2138433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperLeon/pseuds/SuperLeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were no such things as 'cheap shots' in Sumotori. No illegal moves, no regulations, and no rules. When the bell rang, you just did your damnedest to get your opponent down. Friendships, rivalries, alliances— those lost meaning completely. </p><p>When it was down to the wire, the only thing that mattered was "you, or him".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening Match

**Author's Note:**

> The first Sumotori fic?  
> Probably. I don't even feel bad.

Garret Gray- known in the ring as Gray Death- performed a couple more practice hits, a towel around his shoulder. When he sent a smirk her way, "Baby Blue" Beatrice rolled her eyes and continued typing away on Gray's laptop. Gray slid into bed next to her, placing his hands behind his head as though he'd accomplished something. 

"So, what's it look like for the opening round?"

"Well it's a little harder to get the details with your old browser," Gray shrugs when she gives him a look. "But so far, Blue, Green, and Brown are all confirmed for entrance."

"Hm." He shifted, closing his eyes. "And what've those chumps been up to?"

"Blue and Green have been undergoing some intensive training programs, and no-one's seen Brown in months. Rumor has it he's been training in isolation and taking part in underground matches. Of course, you wouldn't understand anything about training, since you're an arrogant douche."

"But you'll stay so long as the money keeps rolling in, huh?"

Gray looked over in reminiscence at his championship poster; a perfect depiction of himself in the ring with his opponents in a pathetic pile underfoot. He'd won three championships in a row the past three seasons, and he was sure this season would turn out to be his fourth consecutive win. No different.

...Well, perhaps slightly different, now that he would be facing off against some familiar foes. He remembered Blue, Green, and Brown from his very first amateur match. After the four of them passed into the semi-finals together, he was sure they had some unbreakable rapport. It was in the final exhibition that Brown seemed to drop off the face of the Earth, with Green close behind. Blue was a match for him, but managed to be defeated before the Deathmatch.

After that, they'd barely spoken to one another. Gray had gone from a mild-mannered kid to an egotistical champion that figured himself a force to be reckoned with. Blue called every now and again, mainly focused on taking part in public exhibitions nowadays. Green was always on some intense training regimen, and Brown had gone back to underground matches, barely leaving a trace of himself on the outside world.

He had to admit, he'd made it the best out of all of them. A woman on his arm 24/7, a penthouse, clubs, alcohol— he was set.

"Won't be 'rolling in' for long if you don't get serious about training. The open match is in three days and you haven't even touched the workout room."

"C'mon Baby, you know I'll do fine." He settled himself under the sheets, a smirk still about his features. "And when I win, you'll have to do something special--just for doubting me."

She closed the laptop, placing it on the desk next to the bed.

"Yeah, whatever. Goodnight."

"'Night."  
\--

So far, Green had seen only two of his old accomplices. He wasn't sure what Gray had become. When they'd first met he was more soft spoken-- more of a charismatic young gun with high hopes and dreams like any other young competitor. Now, he was the usual egotistical narcissist with more money and fame than he could handle. Blue, however, had hardly changed at all. He was more mature, sure, but he was still the kind-hearted fellow with a comforting southern drawl who knew just what to say. But Green could only imagine where Brown was.

Brown— Benjamin— always seemed more closed off— serious and focused as opposed to excited like the rest of them were. His eyes were on his goal, and nothing could ever distract him from it.

Now, as Green was let into the ring, Brown appeared just across from him. His face was solemn, like he'd aged a hundred years in only three. He met eyes with Green, but gave no hint of recognition. Rather, he'd looked away and performed a vicious combo as a warm-up before the other contestants were introduced. It wasn't a friendship now. This was Sumotori. This wasn't "Benjamin" and "George", or "Barry" and "Garret", it was _B.B. Brown_ , _Georgie Green_ , _Gray Death_ , _Black Eye Blue_.

They weren't friends anymore, they were targets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray invites the old gang out for drinks, and things go sour quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word of the day is "anyway".

Before the match, Green had seen only two of his old accomplices. He wasn't sure what Gray had become. When they'd first met he was more softspoken -- more of a charismatic young gun with high hopes and dreams of reaching past the stars. Now, he was the usual egotistical narcissist with more money and fame than he could handle. Blue, however, hadn't changed at all. He was more mature, sure, but he was still the kind-hearted fellow with a comforting southern drawl who knew just what to say. But Green could only imagine where Brown had been.

Brown--Benjamin, rather, always seemed more closed off; serious and focused. His eyes were on his goal, and nothing could distract him from it.

Now, as he was lead into the ring, Brown appeared just across from him. His face was solemn, like he'd aged a hundred years in only three. He met eyes with Green briefly, but gave no hint of recognition. Rather, in the moments before the match started, he practiced a vicious combo of punches. In wasn't a friendship anymore, it was _Sumotori_. It wasn't 'Brown' and 'Green' or 'Blue' and 'Gray', it was _BB Brown_ , _Georgie Green_ , _Gray Death_ , _Black-eye Blue_.

They weren't friends now, they were _targets_.

\--

Green wiped the blood from his nose, coughing when the coppery scent assaulted him again and stronger than before. Just by the skin of his teeth did he manage to make the first round, so much for all the training. He had to admit, though, that he hadn't trained for the endurance to face 20 different opponents one after another. Or maybe he was just distracted. Watching Gray take down his own challengers was quite the sight.

"Hey, uh,"

Green had been so absorbed in his admiration that he hadn't noticed the figure in front of him. He peered up, keeping his head tilted forward, but had to check his reaction when he found who it was.

"Your name was George, wasn't it?"

"Yeah-- Bruce, right?"

Or was it Benjamin? Which one did he go by again?

"Yeah...It's good seeing you again."

"Same here..."

A moment passed.

"Just, uh...came to tell you that Gray invited everyone out for drinks. Don't really know my way around here though, so--"

"I know where it is!"

Green blurted out before realizing. The blood flow still hadn't relented.

"I mean, I know a few bars near here, so..."

"You need any help with that?"

Brown motioned to his still bleeding nose.

"Oh, uh...No, thanks. It'll stop in a bit."

"Alright. See you later, then?"

"Yeah..."

With a final nod, Brown left Green in the locker room to desperately search for tissues.

...

As it turned out, Gray could down drinks with just as much vehemence as he brought down opponents. Blue made a bit of a sport out of it, watching his inhibitions fall with each empty bottle that hit the table. Eventually, Gray proved to be the table's main source of entertainment, televisions be damned. As he struggled to form coherent sentences, BabyBlue continued to look on in disdain, rather than find any fun in it.

But, of course, after a while, Brown was back to isolating himself. He seemed to look from the outside in while everyone had their fun. Only half-finished with second drink, he was about ready to leave. The first round of Sumotori was still only two days away. He had to take his training seriously.

"Bruce?"

Sitting next to him, George placed a hand on his shoulder, noticing the distance in his gaze.

"C'mon, relax. You're among friends."

Before Bruce could come up with some excuse, Gray took notice and put his bottle down with more force than necessary. He swayed in his seat.

"I expected it from George, but I didn't know _you_ were a fag too, Ben."

BabyBlue punched his arm and hissed something the others could only guess was a "stop". Bruce sighed, shrugging away from George and standing. He went to pull his wallet from his pocket.

"Sorry, I think I'll leave now."

"Bruce," BabyBlue tried, a pleading look on her features. "Don't go, he didn't mean that."

"It's alright, I have some training to do tomorrow anyway."

Dropping a few bills onto the table, Bruce pulled on his jacket and headed out of the bar. While BabyBlue berated Gray, George threw his jacket over his shoulder and rushed out, only seeming to catch Blue's attention. He caught Bruce's shoulder before the fighter could head to the street in search of a cab.

"Bruce,"

"George. I had a feeling you'd follow me."

"Bruce, at least let me give you a ride back to the hotel, we're going to the same place."

"I can make it fine by cab."

When he tried to turn, George kept a hold on his shoulder.

"Bruce, I'm not gonna leave. Just accept the offer, okay?"

He sighed, looking back at George with a sidelong glance. The offer was innocent enough, and Bruce wasn't honestly sure he had enough to pay the fare. He finally nodded his agreement, prompting George to let go of his shoulder.

"Thanks. I mean-- I just wouldn't feel right letting you get back on your own."

"Yeah..."

\--

Gray's drunken ramblings had eventually gone from harmless to volatile, and Blue was having none of it. Once he'd turned his insults to BabyBlue, the older male stepped in to hold him off. Irate, she paid the bill for the rest of them from Gray's wallet and walked out. Gray could only stumble in his attempt to follow her.

"Whatever. That bitch won't get far without me anyway."

"That's about enough, Garret."

Blue's voice had dropped an octave, the accent that was usually calming adding a sharp edge to it. 

"Say what you want about me, but I won't sit here and allow you to disrespect that young woman."

"What the fuck would you know? Goddamn _hick_."

"We can take this outside, if that's what you want."

"Think I can't take you, Blue?"

"I think you're gonna get yourself hurt before you even get out there."

"Try me."

Tripping over himself once again, Gray stumbled out of the bar with Blue close behind. BabyBlue waited in their parked truck, leaning out of the driver's side. Her hands were bundled up over her chest, and she watched the two exit the bar, Gray an uncoordinated mess. She wondered briefly why she kept around.

Her heart jumped to her throat when Gray threw a punch that landed squarely on Blue's jaw. Blue was back on him in an instant though, used to the shock that came with the first strike. Gray was pinned against the wall before the scrap could escalate, BabyBlue looking away with some sort of disgust.

She was upset with Gray, for sure. But she was even more upset with herself for staying with him, for letting his ego get as inflated as it was. Looking back over, she watched as Blue hissed something apparently fierce enough to have Gray push him away. Gray made his way over to the truck, making a look like he would argue with BabyBlue, but slumping into the passenger seat instead. She spared an apologetic glance in Barry's direction, and was met with a shake of his head.

"What's he know anyway? Dickshit redneck..."

On the drive home, she could finally relax when Gray's drunken mumbles quieted to nothing.

\--

"We're here."

George felt obligated to announce their arrival, in spite of it being obvious. Bruce nodded anyway, perhaps in an attempt to save George the embarrassment. They made a conscious effort to keep from walking in unison, and the elevator ride up to Bruce's floor was completely silent. Once the doors re-opened, he stepped out and caught them with his hand, giving George an earnest look.

"Thanks for...trying, I guess...Night."

"A-actually,"

George took a step out of the elevator before Bruce could leave, quickly feeling as though he was imposing.

"I mean-- I don't mean to overstep my boundaries or anything, but I've always wanted to say that...ah..."

George scoffed internally. From Sumotori to stuttering idiot in two seconds flat.

"I really admire you. Not like in a hero-worship way, but...you know..."

Bruce kept watching him, making George even less confident than he was before.

"It was just-- really a shame when you dropped out of the tournament that first season. I felt like... _you_ could make it, if anyone."

"...You dropped out right after me, didn't you? Why?"

"I'll be honest," George laughed bitterly. "I lost my nerve at the Championships. I just couldn't do it."

He seemed to lose a few points for his confession, but George kept on.

"It's a dangerous game. Ever think of how many people get sent to the hospital after just the _first round_? How many people never get to go home?"

George finally stepped out of the elevator, just realizing he'd been holding it there. It had to be too late for anyone else to need it, anyway.

"I wanted to make something out of myself, first. Didn't wanna die without doing something important. I wanted to meet someone, maybe. Have someone else to fight for besides myself."

The space around them was silent for a while. George never quite met Bruce's gaze, finding whatever there was to look at in the elevator lobby far more interesting. When Bruce stepped a little closer, it startled him.

"...I know what you mean."

George was stopped in his tracks.

"Y-yeah?" Why was he so tense? It's not like Bruce was going to kill him...maybe.

Bruce placed his hand against the wall George had unknowingly pressed himself against, leaning most of his weight on to it. He gave George another look, finally getting their eyes on the same level.

"It'd be nice...having something to fight for."

It was then that George couldn't quite read him. He wasn't sure if what he saw was regret or longing -- something he remembered? Something he wanted? Both, maybe? Before he could figure it out, Bruce sighed, pushing off of the wall and freeing George from his prison. He was frustrated now, unable to find the words to end the conversation _he'd_ started. Instead, he settled for watching Bruce's back as he walked down the hall to his room. Once Bruce was inside, George was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't decide exactly how to use their names, so I just used it in the more intimate scenes. Brown's name is Bruce Benjamin Jr., Green is George, Gray is Garret, BabyBlue is Beatrice, and Blue is Barry.


End file.
